


The Shooting Star of Fukurodani

by mochiicat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dorks in Love, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Oblivious Bokuto Koutarou, One-Sided Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, POV Akaashi Keiji, Pining Akaashi Keiji, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Volleyball Dorks in Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochiicat/pseuds/mochiicat
Summary: Bokuto shone like a shooting star when he spiked. He was the brightest light to Akaashi, as a friend and team mate.However, Akaashi's feelings begin to slowly morph into something more daunting and hard to brush away as the time he spends with Bokuto increases.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	The Shooting Star of Fukurodani

**Author's Note:**

> HI this is is my first ever fanfiction :P its going to be a little angsty and rocky but we all love that slow burn don't we?
> 
> ... honestly my main goal here is to accurately capture their personalities. Nothing worse than shaping these awesome characters into ones that are dif from the anime

The first time Akaashi Keiji noticed just how bright and brilliantly blinding Kotaro Bokuto truly was was on his first day of his first year. 

Bokuto was stunning in more ways than one. He held a fiery charge within his entire body and ignited every room he walked into with his boisterous presence and garish smile. He was someone who outwardly appeared to have never experienced any imperfections. He was pure, untainted, and a force to be reckoned with on the court. 

When he jumped, he cut through the air like a molten knife through flesh. One of his hands dove through the heavens while the other reeled back, collecting every flash of lightning it could to charge its power. His legs came up behind him in a winding coil and the flexing sinews of his muscles were apparent even through his black uniform. When he hit the ball, the most brilliant smile would split his features and it only stretched further to his eyes when the ball broke through the wall of fingers before him and slammed against the ground.

He was blinding. A shooting star that stole Akaashi’s breath and left him, like any other viewer, wishing he could watch just a moment longer. 

And then Bokuto’s body would fall down from nirvana and back to the Earth, sending him into a symphony of triumphant roars as the point was called. 

Akaashi decided then and there, on his first day, he would do anything to be a setter worthy of delivering the ball to Bokuto. He would do anything to stand beside that smile on the court. And he would do anything to watch his knees bend, his legs recoil upwards, and his lift off from the ground just one more time. 

Bokuto was the heart and soul of Akaashi’s ambition towards the sport of volleyball.

For a long time, Akaashi strived to be more than just a bench warmer. He pushed himself at practice and forced his body through the barriers of exhaustion, always silently trying to catch up to the blazing ace. Time and time again, Akaashi served to prove his worth on the court and was eventually promoted to the role of setter, standing beside the gleaming captain and renowned ace. They had formed a connection through the past year and Akaashi began to be Bokuto’s voice of reason, oftentimes bringing the eccentric boy back to Earth during his outbursts and fits. 

However, the first time Akaashi noticed his feelings for Bokuto were becoming estranged, pulsing thickly with conflict, was after a practice match with a neighboring school. 

Akaashi was being pushed by his team. He has just recently been pulled from the bench as the main setter for Fukurodani. They prodded at his skills and tested his athleticism time and time again. Truthfully, Akaashi was not the most athletic and preferred reading and studying as opposed to sweating and nearly collapsing.

Sweat slid from beneath his hairline, streaking a salty trail down his face before dripping into the gym floor. At that moment, it seemed that the only sound filling the entire gymnasium was the squeaking of sneakers and the rush of blood in his ears as the team converged around him. They were in their final set, at match point and Akaashi felt as though his feet were cemented to the slick wood as exhaustion ate into his limbs and drained the energy from his spirit. He felt a shiver sprint up his spine as his ears began to ring.

Akaashi couldn't hear. The rush of his blood was far too loud and the distant call of going home to sleep was enough to lull him into hesitating a moment as the volleyball flew towards his side of the net.

“AKAASHIIIII!!!” Exclaimed Bokuto, breaking past Akaashi’s deafness as he surged to the front, turning his head backwards to look Akaashi dead on, golden eyes flickering brightly in exhilaration. Sweat glistened on his flushed face, yet he still managed to hold a spirited smile as they locked eyes. 

He held an expression that challenged Akaashi. It screamed: “Well? Are you going to set me or not?” It questioned his talent and taunted the very core of his being. 

Akaashi felt his lips competitively tilt upwards before energy coursed, thick and fiery, through his body. He sprinted past the backs of his teammates, surging from the rear of the line up so he could position himself beside the net. Sweat dribbled down from his chin and landed on his outstretched forearms as he reached them forward and out, catching the ball on the tips of his fingers just in time to bend his knees and send it towards Bokuto's flying smile. 

He was soaring through the gymnasium, one arm reeled backwards as the other tore through the air. His body was prepared for impact--prepared to send the volleyball over the net with a force that could break fingers. 

Akaashi watched, stunned. He had seen this so many times before and yet every time it compelled even his own stoic expression to show a hint of admiration against his will.

His amazement didn't last long though. 

The team they were practicing against possessed amazing blockers, their most daunting one being near 6’7”, towering above Bokuto and his spike. 

Powerful spikes can go three ways. They can land and score, they can be blocked and ricocheted back into the air, or they can go completely haywire and return to the sender. The latter is what happened to Bokuto.

The grin across the towering blockers face was one ablaze with both pride and greed as the ball bounced from the palms of his hands, not nearly high enough to even touch the tips of his fingers, and all of the power that Bokuto had sent into his spike came rebounding back towards him as the blocker slightly, ever so slightly, curved his fingers downwards so the ball flew down instead of up. In that moment, Akaashi was certain that the blocker had a silent, brimming vendetta against his ace. 

First, it broke through Bokuto's fingers and bent them back so far Akaashi cringed despite himself. Then, after it had passed through the barrier of Bokuto's outstretched hands, it flew into his face, buffeting against the bridge of his nose and lower forehead. 

Blinded by pain, Bokuto fell back against the slick polish of the gymnasium floor and a blaring hush befell both teams as he cried out and clutched at his face. Akaashi, broken from his stupor, rushed over from where he had been locked in place and crouched down to Bokuto, who was hissing in agony. Tentatively, Akaashi reached out to Bokuto's hands, where he cradled his face, and pulled his fingers away from the area. He couldn't help but notice how red the fingers on Bokuto’s right hand were.

“Bokuto-san..” Akaashi murmured quietly in concern, examining the red patch in the middle of Bokuto's face. Blood was slowly dribbling from his right nostril but his nose did not appear to be broken. Bokuto outwardly hissed as Akaashi removed his hand. Slowly, he opened his puffy eyes and gazed up at his teammate, a very melodramatic expression splitting his features. 

Akaashi breathed out a sigh. Bokuto was fine. The only one who wasn’t going to be fine was Akaashi after he dealt with Bokuto's new onslaught of his “emo mode.” 

“Akaasshiiiii……..” Bokuto whined, leaning his head against Akaashi’s lower abdomen in defeat and hurt. Akaashi automatically tensed from the action and cringed at the feel of Bokuto's sweat bleeding through his uniform. 

Akaashi pushed his head away with the tips of his fingers, lest he allow his entire palm to be coated in the sweat, “Bokuto-san..” Akaashi looked towards his teammates hopefully, but they all glanced away, practically declaring ‘this is your job. Your responsibility. Fix him.’

“Please get your head off of me.” Akaashi coerced bluntly, taking a step backwards from Bokuto. “And get off of the floor. No cool ace would sit on the floor after serving that hard spike. Plus,” Akaashi wagged his reprimanding finger, “it's really dirty.. there's too many germs down there.”

Bokuto winced in pain as he dejectedly placed his face in his hands and shook it fervently in denial. “I was so uncool. So not awesome. That was so bad. I’m so sorry everyone.” He sniffled, “Akaashi I don't deserve your sets.” 

Vaguely, Akaashi noticed that the opposing team was glancing at them and wondering to each other what was happening. His team just shot apologetic looks back before returning to the situation at hand.  
Akaashi sighed and recoiled as bokuto fell straight onto the floor, flushed cheek bare against the sneaker tracks. 

Exasperatedly, Akaashi gripped Bokuto by the back of his uniform and pulled him off the ground, forcing the older boy to his feet as he grumbled something about how Akaashi should just leave him to rot. Ignoring his team mate, Akaashi beckoned for Bokuto to follow him as he gestured to the coach and managers that they’d be right back -- to which he received knowing and apologetic nods and even a thumbs up. 

On a second thought-- before he walked out he turned around and stared at their gigantic blocker head on before declaring (in a very matter of fact way), “That was very rude of you.” 

The two of them walked in silence to the nurses office. It was after hours and the entire building, save for a few meanderers, was empty. 

Akaashi pushed the nurses door open and walked into the darkness of the abandoned room. Fumbling blindly, Akaashi fished around for a light switch and when he finally found it, he noticed that Bokuto was sitting in one of the chairs with his head lowered and mouth in a pout. 

“I’m going to get some ice for your face and…” Akaashi wondered to himself, “Some gauze for your fingers, if you play in the next practice match they need to be protected.” Bokuto huffed, to which Akaashi turned towards the medical cabinet and asked, “Do they hurt -- your fingers that is.” 

“No,” Bokuto glowered. 

Taking the roll of gauze out of the cabinet, Akaashi turned back around to his captain and friend, fingering through the fabric until it unrolled neatly and pooled into his palm. As he walked forward, he grabbed a tissue off of the nurses desk before crouching down so that he was eye level with Bokuto's chest. 

Bokuto, from his place in the chair, looked down at him with a masked sort of expectancy. 

Akaashi handed him the tissue and Bokuto sluggishly used it to wipe the blood from the top of his lip and inside his nose. 

“Give me your hand.” Akaashi ordered. 

Bokuto gave him his left hand. His very evidently uninjured left hand. 

“Bokuto.” Akaashi chastised, to which Bokuto smiled in a tiny, playful way. 

Gently, Akaashi outstretched both his hands, carefully cradling Bokuto's injured fingers in between his own. The movement was small and precise, yet it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. 

A funny, foreign feeling began to unfurl in Akaashi’s gut. 

Bokuto’s hands were warm. In fact, his entire body was warm. Akaashi could feel the heat emanating from Bokuto and absentmindedly mulled over the fact that the boy in front of him really was a star. He was as warm as a tiny sun, the very feeling and presence of him scorching Akaashi’s entire body. Bokuto seared his mind and turned every coherent thought into an evaporating puddle. 

Akaashi shook the disdained feelings off. He didn't know why he was suddenly feeling like this. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the room. The chilly fall temperature drained the heat from the building, and it served to highlight Bokutos blazing presence against Akaashi's cool figure.

...Perhaps it was the dimly lit nurses office, only one of the six lights on due to Akaashi's lack of care when he swiped only one of the switches up. The room was murky. The atmosphere was suffocating.

Tentatively, Akaashi rolled the gauze over Bokuto’s red fingers. The process was slow as he became more and more aware of Bokuto’s gaze on him. Of the relaxed breaths that tousled the hair atop his head as Bokuto sat perched above him. The feeling was foreign. So foreign and so strange. Akaashi sat a space away, yet still between Bokuto's legs. His fingers were cradled to his chest as he worked on wrapping the gauze over the outstretched hand. The fingers were thick and calloused, rough to the touch yet soft at the same time. They were comforting in a way, pressed softly against Akaashi's own. 

Absentmindedly, he hoped that Bokuto didnt notice his intense gaze and the troubled shake of his head as he tried to clear his thoughts.

Akaashi’s face was hot. And he didn’t really know why until Bokuto unknowingly shifted in his seat and pressed his knee against Akaashi’s upper arm. 

Akaashi nearly jumped. Nearly. 

Bokuto’s body had never once accidentally touched Akaashi. Sure, Bokuto had grabbed him or fell onto him before, during and after games. But they had never accidentally brushed hands when they were walking or bumped knees when eating at the cafeteria tables. This was something that nearly crumbled Akaashi’s stoic foundation and had his breaths coming out a little heavier. A little more labored. A little more thick. 

They sat in a cumbersome silence until Akaashi finished. Afterwards, Bokuto languidly pulled his hand to his face and inspected Akaashi’s work as the other boy glanced up.

When Bokuto noticed Akaashi's gaze, he flashed the boldest smile and sat up straighter in the chair, forcing Akaashi to stand to his full height above him. 

He couldn’t ignore the weakness of his legs and the shaking of his hands as he did so. 

Bokuto experimentally touched at the firm wrapping, marveling at how tightly the gauze secured his hands and held his fingers in place. Akaashi looked on as he slowly flexed his fingers and made a feeble attempt at forming a fist. "I'm practically brand new!" Bokuto chimed, standing up quickly, forcing Akaashi to take a step back lest their chests were a breaths width apart and, honestly, Akaashi didnt think his muddled thoughts could take being that close to him at the moment. 

Pushing the other boy back down into his chair, Akaashi scrunched his eyebrows in protest and gave Bokuto a strict look. "No.. look at your face.. All messed up. You look terri-"

"You know. If I were Oikawa that would be very insulting!" 

"Bokuto-san, refrain yourself from interrupting me right now."

Bokuto just laughed before Akaashi turned and grabbed a frozen pack from the freezer, giving it to Bokuto so he could put it on his face.

"Akaashi," Bokuto started, childishly slouched back in his chair as his face pointed to the ceiling, the back of his head pressed against the chair. Ice pack balancing on the middle of his face, Bokuto brought his hands down to his sides. "Do you think we'll be able to sleep in the same room with Nekoma at training camp? I've always wondered what Kuroo looks like In the morning. I bet he looks so stupid. That ugly bed head of his and everything." He motioned with his hands. A quick, flippant thing.

"Bokuto-san, its not very nice to make fun of someones hair... Especially when yours is like.. that." 

"HEY!!" Bokuto jumped forward and the ice pack fell to the floor. 

Akaashi stepped forward with a sigh. Picking the pack up, he dusted it off before forcing Bokuto's head back. He held the pack in place on his face.

"I can do it-"

"Obviously you can't." 

They sat like that for a moment before Akaashi plopped the seat beside Bokuto, his head cupped in one hand while the other stretched over and pressed the pack to the middle of Bokuto's face.

"Akaashi you're pressing too hard I cant move my eyes."

"Bokuto-san be quiet or I'll put it on your mouth so you can't talk either. 

The laugh that bubbled from Bokuto's chest in response made Akaashi nearly drop the ice pack this time.

He wished he could just throw up the butterflies in his stomach and promptly forget about them.


End file.
